Arise
by Drake Missing
Summary: Draco and company have just escaped the Dark Lord's grasp, only to find Voldemort is practically immortal, Draco's own family can't be trusted, and he has no choice but to rely on the one he was used to destroy to get his revenge.
1. Tell the Swine, We'll Make It Out Alive

"I'm cold. My toes are numb." a girl's voice said, tiny and beaten. The chilling wind was creeping through the cracks of stone, causing ice to hang from the cold ceiling. A single torch gave light, sending odd, dancing shadows across the floor.

"Come here, Pansy. I'll keep you warm," a manly voice said, followed by a shuffle of clothing against concrete. There was a sigh.

"Here, me too. I'm freezing." More shuffling.

"Thank you, Blaise, Theo. That helps," Pansy said sincerely, letting her head fall onto Theodore's shoulder. Another man, this one on the other side of the dark room, stood to his feet. He walked toward the edge of the room, reaching to shake the bars that made their room a cell.

"Stop it, Draco. It's not going to budge," Blaise said to the blonde. Draco shook the bars again, this time more fiercely.

"I know that, but does that mean I have to give up? They were like paper last time the door closed behind me two years ago," he said out loud, punching one of the bars. The sound echoed throughout the cell, radiating for a moment before returning to a still silence.

"Draco, come sit down. You need to sleep," Pansy said, trying to sound sincere despite her own groggy tone. Draco shook his head, reaching down to flick a stone from the pad of his bare heel.

"I'm fine. Millicent has the cot today, and you three need to rest before I do," he said in his leader tone. "Besides, if he comes back, I'd rather be the one he takes than any of you. We all know I have a stronger resistance for Unforgivable curses."

"Only because your the one that has been tortured. The last time you were taken, you came back bloody and unconscious. You didn't wake up for eight meals," Blaise said with a hard, almost sorrowful voice inflection. Theodore nodded in agreement.

"You can't play God, Draco. Some of us have to take a blow, too. For Merlin's sake, they dipped your hands in toxins to burn the skin away, and now your hands are black!" Theodore exclaimed, Draco looking at his dead skin. His hands were charred, fingernails gone and only now growing back, his skin flacking away like bark, the crisp flakes replaced by red oozing blood.

"The time I allow you tortured for my failure is the day Hell freezes over." Draco said plainly, his knuckles peeling as he gripped the bars, the tops starting to bleed.

"It's not just your failure. So Snape killed Dumbledore instead of you, so what? So we didn't do our part by taking the Mark, who cares? You-Know-Who can't keep us down here forever-"

"Three months." a voice said from the cot. Millicent rolled over, facing the remainder of the group. Draco looked at her as she wrapped the blanket around her sadly naked form. She was stripped of her clothing after being found out to have a Gryffindor boyfriend. The Dark Lord had deemed her unworthy of such an honor as to be clothed. "Three bloody months."

"What, Millie?" Pansy asked, raising her head. Millicent bit her lip, turning around to tie the blanket firmly around herself before standing.

"I've been counting the meals they've been dropping off. If we were given breakfast and dinner, it would be one month, but we all know that's not the case. We all know they usually feed us every three days. In other words, we've been trapped in the cell for three months, give or take." she explained, crossing her arms over her chest. "I, for one, am fed up with this hell hole. We are pureblood wizards, not some mudblood half-wits. I'm tired of being treated like an animal."

"Same here," Draco said, propping himself against the wall. They all stared at the ground, Draco scanning his friends faces.

Millicent was covered in only a blanket that barely reached her mid-thigh, her bangs pulled back from her face by an amateur headband. Theodore was clothed in torn sweatpants and a black tank top that was covered in dirt stains, his hair starting to cover his ears in a curly mess. Pansy was in her Slytherin uniform, minus the sweater and socks. It was filthy as well, and her hair was in pigtails in a poor attempt to keep her cute demeanor. Blaise was in his uniform as well, but his slacks were torn at the ends, ending in strips at his knees to make the hair ties for Millicent and Pansy. Draco looked down at himself. He wore a black long sleeve shirt the fell to his mid-thigh at the bottom, his tight black pants still in tact and in decent condition. The sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, the Dark Mark flashing on his dirt-covered skin. None of them had anything on their feet.

"Where do you think Potter is right now?" Theodore asked, making Draco jump.

"It would be the end of August if Millicent's prediction is correct. He must be getting ready for Hogwarts," Pansy said. Draco shook his head.

"No. If I remember correctly, which is not likely, he was speaking with Dumbledore about Horcruxes right before I stepped in." Draco informed, Blaise standing at the word. Pansy shivered at the lost of warmth, Theodore bringing her in tighter.

"Whose Horcruxes?" he asked, suddenly interested in conversation.

"You-Know-Who's most likely," Draco replied, running a hand through his mattered hair. "It was their quest to destroy them, I believe. To weaken the Dark Lord."

"I don't know where, but I've heard of those before. Must have been my fifth stepfather or something," Blaise said, rubbing his stubbled chin.

"What is a Horcrux?" Millicent asked, walking back to the cot to sit down. Blaise reclaimed his seat next to Pansy, breathing in deeply before speaking.

"It's very dark, very cruel magic." he started, Draco shifting his weight to ease the sudden feeling of discomfort. "It's when a piece of your soul is torn from your body, sealing it away into an object. It's like a way to taunt Death. When your real body dies, that piece of you still lives on, so you never truly die."

"But, I still don't understand." Theo said calmly, looking over Pansy's shoulder to look at Blaise. "That's just what a Horcrux is. How do you make a Horcrux?" Blaise opened his mouth to respond, only to snap it shut. The color drained from his face, and he coward back against the wall. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Murder."

Pansy squeaked.

"What do you mean 'murder'?" Theo asked sternly, tightening his grip on the pigtailed girl.

"Exactly what it sounds like. When you kill someone, it's as if a piece of you is gone, and you become less human. The way I see it, you take that piece and put it somewhere else so the you don't feel guilty." Draco explained. "I heard Auntie Bella talk about hem as well. According to her, Voldemort has six. One of them is in her Gringotts vault."

"Let's go get it!" Millicent said, standing from the cot again. Draco raised a curious eyebrow, holding back a laugh. The fire in the torch shifted, almost going out.

"We can't, Millie. We're in a cell and You-Know-Who was our wands, remember?" Pansy said, trying to smile. Millicent rolled her eyes.

"I know that. But I've been thinking, you said the bars were like paper before we were thrown in here, right?" Draco nodded, glaring at the metal rods. "What if the reason they are so strong now is because they want us in here. If we were simply trapped, and not captured, the bars would let us break through easily."

"But the Death Eaters trapped us here. We don't apply to that." Blaise said.

"I know, but while I was counting meals, I noticed something. Every time they bring us a meal, the arm of whoever brought it is inside the cell for a mere moment. Maybe if someone was to stop the arm from leaving, in other words, someone who wasn't wanted here, the spell on the bars would break, letting us out." Millicent concluded with a devious smirk. Draco smiled. The other three looked at her with disbelief, Blaise about to start laughing. Millicent gave him a glare.

"Look, I just want to get out of this fucking jail cell. I know you do, too. We could get out and make a run for it. Head to the forest or something. Maybe we'll find our wands or take someone else's. I don't care, I just want out." she said motioning to her blanket-dress. Everyone remained quiet, silently agreeing with the girl. An uneven cold spread through the room again, making them all shiver. Millicent muttered something about laying down, the other three promptly closing their eyes to sleep. Draco slumped to the floor, his head resting on the wall.

Draco thought back to that June night. He just had celebrated his seventeenth birthday with the people he was now trapped with, and with a cold summons from Snape, went to allow the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. He didn't expect so many to come with his aunt, and instantly regretted having ever repaired the Vanishing Cabinet, wishing he had never taken the mission.

It started out easily enough, visiting the Room every night, slowly but surely repairing the cabinet on his own time. His mind was set of pleasing his lord and his father. He kept his studies up during the day, such trivial matters in his opinion. He worked for the Dark Lord now, what did he need Hogwarts for? At least, he thought so.

Come November, he started his attempts to murder Albus Dumbledore, starting with the necklace. Placing the Three Broomsticks barmaid under Impirous was easy enough, along with Katie Bell. He was almost resistant to give the parcel to the girl, a tug of remorse pulling at his heart. Nevertheless, he handed the package to her, only for her to land in the infirmary for possession. That was the day he met Moaning Myrtle, the ghost girl he had slowly become fairly fond of.

Next was the mead. It was easy to land in Professor Slughorn's fat hands, with the help of the barmaid. He gave the toxic mix to the maid, saying to not give it to anyone but Slughorn, and to drop hints about giving it to Dumbledore. It had worked, of course, so Draco left it without notice. It was two weeks later news of Ronald Weasley being poisoned on accident in Slughorn's courters did he almost break down. He had failed a second time. The mead wasn't meant for him, it was meant for Dumbledore! Dumbledore was Draco's only target, not the students. The school was to be handed to Snape after the Death Eaters came through the Cabinet. By that time, it was halfway repaired.

Weasley and Katie were released on the same day, and when Draco walked into the Great Hall, it all came crashing down. He had almost killed both of them. Killed. Murdered. Slain. Such filthy words. The room had suffocated him, and he ran, trying to get away before his regret swallowed him hole. He only made it to the sink before he broke down, Myrtle trying to comfort him. For some reason, he let her. In the reflection, he saw Potter, wand drawn at his side. Draco looked at him, and without thinking, threw a curse at him. How dare he see him cry! His emotions were his alone. His failures were his alone, not to be shared with others. They had fought for not even three minutes before Draco had succumbed to an Unforgivable. He was too late. His chest was ripped to pieces, and for a small moment, he wished it would be his undoing.

Of course, it wasn't. He had lived, thanks to Severus Snape. By then, the Cabinet was almost completed, leaving his last plan; he needed to finish his mission with his own hands. That sad day came in June, when Draco had waited patiently in the Astronomy Tower for the return of the professor and his pet. The Death Eaters were due in the castle any second, giving him minutes to finish his task. He sat by the door, waiting for the pop of Apparition to signal his cue. It came all too soon. He trudged up the stairs, only hearing the word 'Horcrux' before coming face to face with the man the Dark Lord feared most. The man looked at him with forgiveness, hope, and trust.

How? Draco was about to end his life, and still, his elder had faith in him.

'Let me help you.'

The blonde shook his head, aware of not only the headache firm in his skull, but the sudden creeping of tiredness. He sighed, sliding along the wall until he hit the floor, curling into a ball for warmth. He closed his eyes, a restless sleep slowly engulfing him.

-:-

"Such a pity, a face like this to be maimed." a hissing sound echoed, the air hot and sweating, a horrid pain rocketing through his body. "Such a pretty one you were. Now nothing but a simpleton. Not able to complete such a simple task as murder. Pitiful, weak, a failure. A Blood-trailer."

Draco jerked awake, his head hitting the wall with a smack, a groan exiting his mouth. He breathed through his teeth, rubbing the bump on the back of his head. Another nightmare, one he had been accustomed to seeing night after night. At least he had assumed it was night, having not seen daylight in the assumed three months they were captured. A new wave of grief rafted over him, making his chest tighten. It had been three months since the others had step foot outside the cell. Draco had the pleasure of seeing sun every two or so weeks, no matter how devilish the reasons.

Tragic was the only word Draco could find in his mind to describe it.

A clank came from further inside the dungeons, making Draco sit perfectly straight. Sure enough, a flicker of light, most likely a Lumos, came their way. Draco looked over at Millicent, who nodded and sat up from her laying pose. The other three stood to their feet, understanding what he was about to try. Lucius Malfoy rounded the corner, his posture hunched and hands shaking. In his hands were five bowls of what looked like cold soup, something they all had become familiar with.

"Your meal for the day, prisoners." he said with a laugh, kneeling down to slide the tray across the floor.

"How generous of his evilness," Theo drawled, smirking at the phrase he said each time a meal appeared. Lucius hissed, just the tip of the tray making it past the barrier line.

"You will call his Lord, as you shall!" His arm went the rest of the way, Draco running forward. He stomped on the forearm, the man howling in pain.

"Now!" He yelled. Millicent rushed forward, grabbing the bars with fever. They tore like cheap fabric, a cry of victory coming from Pansy. The five of them rushed out, Lucius raising his wand to stop them. Draco tackled him, grabbing his right arm to take the magical item. A fist hit his cheek, making his vision swim. The metal cane of Lucius jabbed his side, tugging at his skin, making him scream in pain. He retrieved the wand, Theo grabbing his shoulder, tugging him toward the back exit. Draco knew the wand was not Lucius' true wand; it was his back up, one with the power to only cast ten spells.

"Duck!" Blaise yelled, three streams of red shooting over their heads. Behind marched Bellatrix LeStrange and Wormtail. They were screaming, yelling at them to stop. Draco aimed the wand, casting his own spells. They were countered easily, Bellatrix aiming her wand at Draco with a green shimmering end.

"Avada Kedavra!" she screamed wickedly, the jet of green hurtling his direction.

"Draco!" Theodore yelled, shoving the blonde to the side. Pansy screamed, making the escapees stop in their tracks. Millicent gasped, Blaise trying to get the two girls to run again. Draco stared in disbelief.

Theodore Nott was dead.

"Draco, let's go!" Blaise screamed, Draco jumping back into reality. He aimed the wand with anger spouting random syllabus and fragments on words. The walls around them crumbled into dust, a hand tugging the back of his shirt. Blaise pushed him toward the door, his legs feeling light and jelly-like.

"Oh Merlin, what have I done?" Draco whispered as the dungeon door closed behind him, Pansy and Millicent letting go of the heavy metal latch. The latch landed with an exploding clank, making Pansy squeak.

"We need to keep moving. There is no doubt in my mind You-Know-Who already knows we escaped." Millicent said with a shaking voice. Pansy was already in tears.

"I can't believe we left him behind." she pepped. Blaise wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close. Draco gripped his father's fake wand tightly, his eyes squinting in anger.

"It's my fault." he said plainly.

"We don't have time to mourn, we need to get out of here!" Millie yelled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Pansy nodded, starting to run down the corridor. Draco caught up with her instantly, making sure to be in front of his group. Their footsteps echoed as they main their way to the front door, more following close behind. Shots of red and green and blue headed their direction, making them fall to the ground. Draco pointed the wand at the source, casting two disarming spells.

He only had five spells left.

"Draco!" a new voice called from up ahead. Draco looked hopefully toward the new voice, his silver eyes widening. Marcus Flint and Narcissa Malfoy were at the end of the corridor, a door open wide.


	2. There Is A Note In The Pages Of A Book

"Hurry!" the ex-Quidditch captain yelled. The five ran faster into the master bedroom, Blaise slipping when a splinter caught his foot. Pansy reached the door first, barely missing the doorframe as she screamed past her saviors. Narcissa flew in behind her, Millicent and Blaise trailing close behind. Draco stopped just outside, casting a protective barrier around the door.

"Up the stairs, quickly!" Narcissa called, picking up her skirt. Millicent stayed close behind her,

"Get in!" Marcus yelled, shoving the blonde inside. No sooner did Draco regain balance was he pulled into a tight embrace, his mother petting the back of his head.

"My baby, my sweet darling, what have they done to you?" she squealed, hands gripping the sides of his face, thumb unknowingly pressing hard on Draco's zombie-like skin. He winced.

"Mother, that hurts." Draco said quietly, voice shaking from lack of breath. Narcissa gasped, face paling.

"We have to move quick," Marcus interrupted. "The charms on the door won't hold with the curses they'll start throwing at it." Pansy pointed toward the balcony window overlooking the gardens.

"We could jump. It's only two stories, and if someone with a wand goes first, they could float us down." she said, walking quickly toward the white door. She opened it, a gust of warm August air filling the room. Draco breathed in deeply, a small smile pulling at his lips.

"It could work. We have brooms waiting at the bottom of a tree about a mile in. We could run there and fly to Grimmauld Place." Narcissa said calmly, still holding her son tight.

"Grimamuld Place? Where is that?" Blaise asked.

"In London, a small Muggle area. We could hide there. It is where I was raised," Narcissa replied. "But I will warn you, the chances of us being the only ones there are slim. It is my understanding my brother passed it down to Harry Potter."

"Sirius Black? He's related to Potter?" Draco asked, his voice muffled in his mother's ample bosom. Narcissa shook her head, the bangs of magic starting on the door. She shoved an object against Draco's chest, the blonde looking down.

His wand.

The group jumped as Draco pointed his wand at the door, casting more shield charms, only for them to shatter an instant later. Marcus stood in a fighting position, ready for the inevitable attack. Narcissa grabbed her son's hand, racing for the balcony window.

"Jump! All of you!" she yelled, pushing Draco over the edge. The blonde barely had time to breathe before he hit the ground, his back smacking on hard concrete. He heaved, rolling onto his side in pain. He saw stars, unaware of his surroundings. Footsteps landed around him, hands grabbing his shoulders, tugging his backward. They were small hands, then sudden large ones, lifting him off his feet.

"Blaise?" he said, his throat hurting from lack of breath.

"Stay with me, Draco!" A smack echoed in the garden. The blonde looked over his friend's shoulder, eyes focusing on the balcony. Grey eyes met black. Draco screamed.

Narcissa was on the ground, her head cracked open and oozing blood, billowing into a crimson puddle. Lucius Malfoy was leaned over the balcony, his true wand pointed at the woman, a smile on his face. Bellatrix appeared from behind, Marcus slung over her shoulder. She cackled, tossing his dead body over the edge. Her eyes connected with Draco's as the man fell to the ground like a rag doll. He landed with a smack, body curling into a bone-snapping fold on top of Narcissa.

"MOTHER!" Draco jumped from Blaise's arms, his feet unsteady on the earth. He pointed his newly reclaimed wand at the balcony, between his father's eyes. His teeth were bared, hatred boiling in his veins.

"Avada Kedavra!" he yelled, a stream of green firing forward like a bolt of lightning. Draco was pulled backward, his aim shifting to the left. Lucius ducked, his wand falling from his hand to the ground below. Draco jumped, picking up the wand from the ground. Bellatrix aimed her wand at Draco, sending her own curse his way, missing my millimeters.

"Let me go!" Draco yelled as more hands pulled him backward. His jaw was so tight it hurt, his hands in fists around the two wands. A leg twisted around his shin, making him fall onto one knee.

"He killed her! He killed my mother!"

Pansy ran in front of him, grabbing Draco's wand. She gripped Draco's shoulder, flicking it wildly. There was a tug at his navel, and Draco was spinning, his body feeling as if it was being forced through a tight straw. Someone was screaming, and Draco was sure it was himself. Not a second later did he feel ground again, falling down with a smack.

"No! I need to go back!" he yelled, Blaise, tackling him to the ground when the blonde tried to get back up. His back was poked by sticks, the world around them a dreary forest.

"If you do, you'll die," Millicent said with a shaky tone.

"I don't care! They killed my mother! Theodore! Marcus! I need to go back!"

"Draco, stop, calm down!" Blaise slammed the blonde'd shoulder's against the earth, his head snapping painfully. Blaise looked him in the eyes, sadness orbiting in his dark pupils.

"You aren't going to go back on some suicide mission. I won't let you. If you die along with them, what would we do?" he said sternly, a single tear falling down his face. Draco's jaw loosened, his breath starting to even out.

Draco looked around him, studying the area intently. Pansy was kneeling by a large tree, her face looking shocked at the ground, as if it was the most surprising thing in the universe. Millicent stood a few feet away, Draco tensing. The blanket had been ripped in two, barely enough to cover both her breasts and crotch. Draco shoved Blaise off of him, handing him his wand to reassure them he wouldn't go back to the manor. He unbuttoned his dress shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. He forced it in Millicent's direction.

"Use it." Millicent nodded, taking the shirt and turning around, handing Draco the tattered blanket. Draco threw it over his own shoulders, tying it around his neck.

"He's dead." Pansy whimpered. Blaise was by her side in an instant, holding her shoulders. "He's really dead."

Draco's chest tightened, his teeth biting down on his lip. He sealed his eyes shut, forcing the tears back. He needed to remain strong. He had three people relying on him now, outbursts of revenge, depression, and sadness will not be permitted.

Draco could feel the twigs stabbing into his feet, reminding him of his location.

"Where did you take us, Pansy?" Draco asked, knowing the girl had controlled the Apparition. She sniffed, looking over her shoulder.

"I don't know! All I could think of was a place to hide! Where we could be protected, do you really think it mattered where we landed as long as it wasn't there?" she yelled, her face pink and streaming tears.

Draco looked down at the dirt, falling to his knees. Millicent sat near by him, but not close enough to touch him. Pansy's tear-filled gasps echoed in the trees, making it harder for Draco to keep his composure. They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, Draco tempted to curl up in a ball and wait for death to call him. Millicent coughed.

"We should, um, make a memorial. For them, you know?" Draco looked a her as she wiped away tears. His shirt could reach down to her knees, covering her past nakedness. She looked relaxed, her shattered pride somewhat restored. "It seems unsettling not to at least have a makeshift service."

Draco nodded, returning his gaze to the ground. Two large sticks were a few feet away, the blonde reaching for them. He motioned toward Blaise for his wand, the other man tossing it his direction.

"Incarcerous." Draco muttered, his wand spamming a moment before ropes erupted from the end. They tried the two sticks together, a fairly sized cross now laying before him. He forced the longer twig into the ground, creating a mound of dirt to keep it in place. Blaise helped Pansy to her feet, helping her walk to the 'memorial'.

Draco draped the battered cloth over the makeshift cross, ignoring how his knuckles were bleeding. He stood back to his feet, his knees popping. Pansy gasped in surprise, Draco knowing what she was looking at. His back was scarred, mangled, torn, shredded, bruised, broken. The injuries crossed and circled, bright white words etched firmly in his skin by his aunt, never to be repaired.

'Blood Traitor'.

"Draco, don't you want to keep the blanket? To hide the..." Blaise trailed off, the blonde shaking his head. He grabbed his father's wand from his pocket, gazing at it with hate. This evil piece of magic had killed his mother. It took her beautiful soul away from her and forcing it to the after life. He teeth gridded against each other, cheeks starting to burn.

"No," he said in a growl, breaking the wand in two. A green spark emitted from the snapped area, the remnants of the last spell casted by the wand. He threw it on the ground next to the memorial, kicking dirt over it with his heel.

"What did you do that for? We could have used it!" Millicent exclaimed, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around with one hand.. He glared at her with blind anger, teeth bared.

"No one was going to use the wand that killed by mother." he explained, shoving Millicent of his shoulder. He softened at her scared face, trying to calm himself. "Besides, I have my own wand, and we all know I have the best skills with magic here."

"But, the blanket." Pansy said with a caring tone. "Surely you want to cover that up?" Draco shook his head, turning back to the cross. They stared in silence as the wind blew slowly, the trees humming a shuffle of leaves. Pansy had started to cry, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. Draco pointed his wand at the cross, tears welding in his eyes.

"Goodbye, Marcus Flint, Narcissa Malfoy, and Theodore Nott. The best Slytherin could offer."

The cross burst into flames, the flame a bright white color, the tips a dark forest green. Pansy was now wailing, Millicent sniffling. Blaise had a hand on Pansy's shoulder, trying to comfort her. Millicent fell into Draco's arms, the blonde willingly letting her fall. She screamed Theodore's name, birds nearby flocking away. Draco gripped her tight, pulling her into his chest.

"I swear to you," he spoke over the cries of sorrow. "I swear on my life, I will kill avenge them. I swear on my soul, in the front of God himself, I will avenge all three of them." Draco said in a chant, his breath shaking. Millicent's fingernails dug into his skin, leaving red marks behind. He didn't care. His thoughts were distracted by the dancing flame in front of him. Pansy ran over to where he was, wrapping her arms around him in a sad embrace. Blaise soon followed, his large arms covering all three of them. Draco closed his eyes, fighting back tears that threatened to fall.

"From now on, _Draco Malfoy is a Blood Traitor_."

"Malfoy?"

Pansy turned around, gasping and tumbling backward, Millicent grabbing her arms and forcing her behind her. Blaise placed himself in a fighting stance, hands in tight fists. Draco didn't blink, his arm snapping in the direction of the voice, the tip of his wand glowing an evil green. His movements stopped, his eyes going from slits to diner plates.

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley stood a few feet away, looks of surprise and wonder on their faces.


	3. Sleep Tonight, Dreamlessly This Time

"Malfoy, is that really you?" Potter asked, voice full of concern. Weasley's arm was in a sling, and Granger had bags under her eyes. Draco could feel all three pairs of eyes gazing over his revealed body, taking in the countless white scars and angry red slashes. Draco hardened his countenance, standing upright, keeping his wand visible.

"Yes, it is me." he responded with a dead-pan tone.

"What are you doing out here?" the brunette asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," Draco responded. Potter stiffened.

"We're on the run. We broke in the Ministry, surely you've read the papers?" Draco glared at him with cold eyes, Granger stepping backward.

"No, actually I haven't. I have been a little reoccupied for the past months, you twat." Draco spat, jaw set and hands dripping blood into the dirt. Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket, aiming at Draco's forehead. Pansy left Millicent's grasp, racing to Draco and stepping in front of him just as he raised his own.

"Calm down. They don't know," she said, placing her hands on his chest. Draco breathed in, keeping his arm raised. Blaise placed a hand on his shoulder, making Draco turn.

"Put your wands down, both of you. All three of your magic is too strong for us, and Draco is too weak to survive another battle," he said sternly, Granger cocking an eyebrow. Blaise turned to Draco's ear, whispering slowly. "Not to mention your wand won't accept anyone you don't deam worthy, so we can't use it." Draco let his arm fall, Blaise placing the wand in the blonde's back pocket.

"I'm not too weak to fight," Draco sneered.

"Why is his magic weak?" Potter demanded, arm still raised.

"He's not telling you anything until that wand is out away!" Millicent yelled. Granger removed her bag from her arm, Potter and Weasley turning her direction.

"What you are you doing, Hermione?" Weasley asked, voice less squeaky than Draco could remember. Granger muttered a spell, a roll of fabric popping out of the small bag.

"Setting up camp." Weasley looked taken back.

"Why?" She stood up, untying the rope around the fabric.

"Because we're helping them."

-:-

"Here's a sweater," Hermione said, handing the grey piece of clothing to Pansy, who accepted it with a smile. Her ruined school clothes were gone, replaced by a pink spaghetti strap top and light blue jeans. She had shoes on her feet now, an old pair of black tennis shoes, most likely Hermione's.

"Thank you," she said, glad to be clean and covered. Blaise took the sweater, holding it out so she could place her arms in. Millicent smiled at them, rubbing her arms. She was clothed now as well, an oversized blue shirt of Ron's covering her chest while khaki shorts that belonged to Harry covered her legs. She wore old tennis shoes, too. Blaise and Draco had yet to change since there was nothing there in their sizes. Draco still lacked a shirt, his back turned to the rest of the group as he stared out the tent lap. The blonde could feel everyone's eyes on his back, without a doubt reading the scars there.

"Harry'll be back soon with more clothing. He's always quick with errands." Hermione said, trying to brighten the mood. Ron laid casually on his bed, his arm wrapped in a makeshift sling.

"I just hope it's soon. We ran out of toilet paper again." Ron joked.

"Oh Merlin, I can't remember the last time I felt toilet paper." Millicent sighed, resting her head on Pansy's shoulder. Hermione's eyes went wide.

"What exactly were you going through?" she asked, grabbing a burn creme bottle from her bag.

"Heaven, compared to what Draco had to endure." Blaise said sadly, looking back at the blonde. "It's not my place to tell." Silence fell over the group, Draco slowly shifting his weight onto the opposite foot. He closed his eyes, knowing what they were waiting for.

"Fine. But it's a long, dark, gruesome story. I won't censor myself," Draco said, turning to face the eager faces of the two Gryffindors. Blaise shuffled over, giving Draco a place to sit. He accepted with a nod, crossing his legs. He noticed how Weasley couldn't keep his eyes off his burns, taking in every blood-oozing crack.

"It started after I celebrated my seventeenth birthday. After Dumbledore was murdered," Draco started. "Severus was leading me out of the castle, to escape before the authorities arrived. We were heading for the Portkey in the Forbidden Forest. The group contained eight people; Severus, Auntie Bella, Greyback, Pansy, Blaise, Millicent and..."

He stopped.

He looked down at his hands, bringing his lip into his mouth. Pansy was sniffing again, already wiping away the snot trickling from her nose. Blaise pulled her close, Millicent clutching the other girl's opposite side. Hermione shuffled her feet, sensing the tension. Draco breathed in deeply.

"We were taken to Malfoy Manor. Auntie Bella was whispering in my ear, calling me a coward. We all went to the Dark Lord. He apparently wanted to speak with all five of us. It was their binding ceremony." Draco said, nodding to the other three. "I was meant to be present at that time, as a peer member of sorts. But after Auntie Bella's report, the Dark Lord threw me down in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor as punishment for not completing the mission I was chosen for. I was disowned almost immediately; the bars of the cells only trap those who have done a Malfoy wrong, excluding Malfoy's, of course. If the bars weren't breaking, it meant you were no longer considered a Malfoy."

"That's horrid," Hermione said, Ron looking at her in surprise. Draco shrugged.

"I guess. I'm honestly proud I'm nameless now. I am no longer tied to the virtue forced upon me by my father."

"You were disowned! Surely you must feel something!" Ron said sternly, readjusting his sling as he sat up. Draco shook his head. Ron quieted, glaring at him again. Draco continued.

"After I was thrown away, my wand taken from me, I had no choice but to give up on escape. I don't know how long I was alone, but I know it wasn't more than a week. Soon, Pansy, Blaise, Millie, and Theo were thrown in with me for rejecting to take the Dark Mark. I'm the only one here that has one. Millie was completely naked and had to cover herself with a wool blanket. Theo's Slytherin badge was ripped from his chest by his father. Pansy had already a scraped knee. Blaise was left unharmed since his mother was off in Kenya on her eighth honeymoon. It was just the five of us in a tiny jail cell."

"How long were you in there?" Hermione asked.

"What day is it?" Draco asked back.

"August twenty-seventh."

"Sixty-nine days." Draco answered. "So, most of June, July, and Augus."

"Matches my meal calculations." Millicent added. Hermione looked at her curiously.

"What meal calculations?"

"I counted how many meals they gave us," Millicent said, still holding onto Pansy's arm. "I counted twenty-two meals. We were feed about every three days, so it makes sense."

"You must be starving," Ron said. "Hopefully Harry will be back soon."

"Why send him out alone? Isn't he kind of wanted right now? Isn't that dangerous?" Pansy asked, looking at the wanted flyer casually laying on the floor next to their feet.

"He's the best at fighting the Death Eaters, and I'm the only one with any medical skill, so I need to stay with Ron." Hermione explained. Draco gave her a nod. Draco shifted in his seat, clearing his throat.

"As I was saying, we were stuck together in a dirty dungeon with no hope of escape. At that time, we thought the worst had already come."

"But we were wrong," Blaise piped in, his eyes squeezed closed. "So horribly wrong."

"What happened?" Ron asked, leaning forward in sudden interest. Draco sigh, in more depression than exasperation.

"I'm the purest evidence of what happened. I was called in by the Dark Lord for reasons unknown. I had no choice but to go willingly, or face death. No matter how much I asked by escort, they never told me what I was called for. I was tossed into my childhood playroom, covered in dust and fond memories of happy times. I couldn't help but smile at the old dolls sitting in the corner. I had named them; Defray, Winnipeg, and Key." Hermione gave him a fond smile, Ron holding back a snort. The other three kept quiet, staring at the floor in sadness. Draco smiled lightly, the grin fading as fast as it came. "It didn't stay that way. I wasn't just me and the dolls in the room. I never noticed him until he spoke. Before I could turn around, I was thrown against the wall, something sharp poking my side. When I opened my eyes, he was there. You-Know-Who. Right in front of me." he said in a hoarse whisper.

"I could have done it. I could have killed him right there. I had the ability to snap his fucking neck and end this blasted war. I could have," Draco quieted his small rant, unclenching his hands around his forearms. "But I couldn't. I just froze. All I could think about was Dumbledore, what he said. 'You're not a murderer.'" Draco took a deep breath.

"He was right," he said on the exhale. "I'm not a murderer to those who have not done me wrong. So instead of fighting him, I let him have his way with me."

"That sounds gross," Ron said, Hermione elbowing his side. Draco softened his gaze at the ginger.

"Yeah. It does," the blonde said. "I mean he did what he summoned me to do. He tossed me to the floor, binding my arms behind my back and suspending me into the air. He was whispering horrid things into my ear as he ran the blade down my throat. I begged for forgiveness like the coward I am," Ron's eyebrows rose. "But that clearly was not what he wanted.

"He took the knife and aimed it at my chest. He stabbed me right on the collarbone-" Hermione gasped."-then again in the side, my shoulder, my thigh. He had hit major arteries, to the point I was bleeding out. Not wanting to lose his new toy, he healed me, doing nothing to clean the mess now staining the blue carpet." Pansy shifted in her seat, obviously uncomfortable hearing the story.

"He grabbed my hair, spitting in my face, saying I had better scream next time, or it was going to be worse. He let me drop to the floor, and he started to continuously kick me." Draco shivered. "Before I blacked out, the last thing I saw was Defray, Winnipeg, and Key, their poor Victorian ball gowns now stained in my very own blood." He paused a moment.

The six young adults sat in silence, a heavy sense of depression and loss hanging in the air like a smog. Millicent retied her hair, trying to distract herself. Blaise kept Pansy close, who looked like she was about to vomit. Ron cleared his throat.

"What about your hands?" he asked in a quiet tone, Hermione nodding along.

Draco nodded. "That happened recently. I'd guess about two weeks ago. After multiple more sessions of whipping, slicing, stretching, and man-handling in that room by the Dark Lord and his minions, I had gathered multiple mementoes. The Dark Lord noticed this, and with the help of Auntie Bella and Severus, he concocted a potion specially made to create scars. He and Auntie forced my hands inside the cauldron, and the skin on my hands melted away. I had fought the pain, some of the toxin splashing onto my face." Draco raised his hair away from his eye, Ron's face going paler than it already was, Hermione gagging. Pansy ran outside, sounds of vomiting coming from nearby. Millicent ran out behind her, most likely to hold her hair back. Draco let his hair go, covering his disfigured face again.

"If he wasn't so thick as to let only himself be tortured when we were called in, he never would have been injured this badly." Blaise said in a sneer.

"Why were they being called if you're getting hurt?" the bushy-haired girl asked. Blaise snorted.

"He refused to let us go. He said to either take himself or no one at all." Blaise answered, Draco slowly nodding.

"They didn't deserve to be in there." Draco said plainly. Hermione reached over, placing a caring hand on his knee. He looked her in the eyes, filching to the touch. Ronald opened his mouth again.

"One more question," he said, looking Draco in the eyes. "Why are you being so open with us?"

Draco looked down at the floor, searching for an answer as if it was in the dust. Why was he telling the Gryffindors all of this? It's not like they enjoyed each others company. Draco was sure they still hated each other. So why?

He sighed.

"I guess I needed to talk about what happened. Place the burden on not just my shoulders, but those around me." Hermione stood from her place, kneeling in front of the Slytherin, her eyes caring and motherly. They reminded Draco of his own mother's eyes.

"You're very brave..." Hermione said sweetly, grabbing Draco's wrist. He flinched as his fingers were pried open, the small yellow tube placed into his hand. 'Advanced Magic Burn Creme'.

"I'm back." The flap to the tent flipped open, Harry walking in with at least seven bags in hand. "I got new clothing and enough food for all of us for a week. I ran into trouble on the way back. We'll have to move soon."

"Why?" Ron asked, standing up from his bed. Pansy and Millicent walked back in, Pansy still shivering from her last activity. All eyes were on Harry. He looked drained, almost dead.

"Dementors, right outside the town boarder. They caught me. I could barely fight them off," Harry explained. Hermione and Ron gave him obscure looks. Draco watched intently.

"Dementors? You can't be serious," Ron said, laughing slightly.

"Your Patronus is the best here. Is something wrong with your magic?" Hermione asked, bringing her wand from her pocket.

"No, Hermione, my magic is fine. I just...I just couldn't produce one." Harry explained.

"Not produce one? This is your spell, mate! One of your best!" Ron said, moving his arm into a better position in the sling.

Harry snapped. "Don't you think I know that? Merlin, I'm not useless! I tried, but I couldn't think of anything happy. Nothing at all." Hermione tapped her foot. "It was like all my joyful thoughts were sealed away, trapped somewhere-"

"Take it off." Draco's ears pricked as Hermione spoke, Millicent snorting at the obvious innuendo.

"What?"

"The Horcrux. Take it off." The Slytherins jumped at the word.

"You have a Horcrux?" Blaise asked, Harry stopping as he removed the pendent from around his neck, breathing deeply. Hermione nodded.

"Surely you know all about them," Ron said, an amusing aura around him. "Being as your Slytherins and all."

Draco scowled wickedly at him. "That is a negative stereotype and a cheap shot, Weasley. Need I make another genius comment about your own house, or should I remain silent?" Ron scowled at him opening his mouth to retaliate. Millicent rolled her eyes, grabbing Draco's arm tightly. She pulled him up from his seat on the bed, tugging him toward the tent opening. Pansy grabbed from under his shoulders, Blaise grabbing his legs, lifting him into the air.

"What the fuck are you doing? Let me go, you bastards!" he yelled, grinding his teeth as he heard the Weasel laugh from inside. They lead him outside, his calls going unanswered. The plopped him onto the cold, hard ground, calling in pain as a stick poked his bum.

"What is your problem?" he demanded.

"Knock it off with insulting Weasley. They have agreed to take care of us, clothe us, and feed us, and I'm not going to have you mess that up with your pride. That's the reason where in this situation in the first place!" Millicent ranted, her finger pointed at his nose. Pansy nodded.

"Yeah, Draco. What other choice do we have anyway? We have no idea where we are. I hate to admit it, but we need them since they seem to know more about the Horcruxes than we do, and I don't see us being able to go into a bookstore and not get caught by some Ministry official." Blaise added, helping Draco back to his feet.

"The Ministry is useless, we all know it. Had the Ministry been aware that the Dark Lord was back or even still alive, none of this would have happened." Draco said, brushing himself off out of habit. Pansy nodded frantically, stopping when another wave of nausea took over her.

"I know you have this chip on your shoulder over the government, but it wasn't the entire Ministry. That deadbeat Minister was just ignorant." Millicent commented, rubbing a rhythmic hand on Pansy's back.

"If the Minister was someone that knew what he was doing, there would be no war right now," Blaise mumbled. Draco rolled his eye.

"Are you talking about that batty old coot again? I overtook him with one spell, what luck would the Ministry have with him?" Millicent slapped Draco's arm again, the blonde pulling away.

"I said stop it with the personal insults!" she scolded. "Potter is in that tent, and is probably not over his death like you are." Malfoy glared at her. Draco physically tensed.

"You think I'm _over_ his death? Are you kidding me?" Draco yelled, his arms starting to shake at his sides. "I am the _cause_ of why he's dead! Not just Dumbledore either! Theodore, Marcus, even my own mother! I'm the cause for the students that were injured that night!" Draco yelled, his voice traveling through the trees with ease. "Lavender Brown, that little Ravenclaw second year, even Bill Weasley was harmed! I almost _killed_ Katie Bell and Weasley. Not to mention the fact I could have stopped Cedric Diggory's death if I wasn't so ignorant to recognize my father's odd behavior! I could have saved Potter from all of this! I could have told him about the Room, or the Prophecy, or the resurrection! I could have stopped all of this! So why didn't I? I wanted to impress my damn father! You can basically say I've killed hundreds, maybe thousands of people. There is no pain worse than knowing that your the reason someone is six feet under!" Millicent took a step back, her face filled with regret.

"You've kept track of all that?" she said quietly.

"Of course I have! It's not something easily forgotten!" Blaise pulled away from Millicent, his face sober and protective.

"You aren't the reason their dead. You-Know-Who is." Blaise said calmly, looking down at the dirt. Draco breathed in, trying to steady his shaking legs. Pansy collected a bit of spit in her mouth, spitting at the ground at the name. Draco closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry for snapping." Draco said loudly, motioning to Millicent. "You're completely right. I'm just a bit emotional. I'll get it under control."

"It's okay to be emotional," a voice said from behind. Draco turned, Granger standing just a few feet away. She breathed in, feet turned inside. "Holding in your emotions only makes it harder to fight. You bottle it all up, only to explode at the worst moment. I did it, Ron did it, Harry blows up all the time. You have to take into consideration all the pressure he's under."

"You think I'm not under pressure, Granger?" Draco demanded. "I just gave you my testimony, and you think I'm not under pressure?"

"I didn't say that!" she said, taken back. "What I am trying to say is..."

A moment passed.

"...that I forgive you."

Draco's eye went wide, breath caught in his throat. Pansy gasped behind him, Hermione smiling a small smile.

"I forgive you for calling me a mudblood, for teasing me and my friends, and for everything you blame yourself for." she said quickly, fidgeting with her sleeves. Draco's face softened into a sober glare.

"Thank you, Granger." he said, trying to get his heart rate under control. "But why?"

"Though our past is brutal, there is a real war being fought, and we are the last hope the world has. Petty school rivalries are becoming rediculous, aren't they?" she said, smiling. Hermione turned toward the tent, stopping just outside the flap. "Use that burn creme. The worst the burns will do is scar." She entered the tent without another word, mumbled voices seeping through the weak fabric.

Draco looked down, the yellow tube still in his hand.

He smiled.

-:-

August 30th, 1997

Draco looked intently at the tent ceiling, spread out on his top bunk. Sunlight streaked through the hole he had made, a way to see the stars at night. That was one of the things he missed most in the dungeon, long nights gazing at the night sky. It bothered the living hell out of Weasley and Potter, but the others didn't mind much. Potter had conjured a second tent for Millie, Pansy, and Blaise, complete with beds and a dining table, identical to the first tent. Draco intended to join his friends, but Granger insisted the blonde stayed in their tent due to his 'injured state'.

Draco had come to learn a few things about the golden trio in the short three days they lived together in the same tent. Weasley was obviously pinning for Granger, which made Draco gag. Granger was completely oblivious to his efforts, despite her usual genius-like nature.

Granger was... how do you put it? Kindly? Nice? Friendly? She was always checking in on him, asking if her burn creme was working. Lucky for her, it was working tremendously. In the week he was using the creme, his hands were almost back to normal, but his face would undoubtedly scar. After hearing that come from her mouth, he had to hold back from tears. He had worked years on his appearance. He used to wake up two hours early just to gel his hair and applicate the little amount of make-up he'd never admit to using. His face was one of the things he was known for, other than his name. Now, when Draco looked in Hermione's pocket mirror, he didn't see the person he was used to seeing day after lazy day. This person wasn't him. He had bags under his normal grey eye, his other forming a white scar, the iris and pupil turning stark white. This man had chapped lips, hair that reached past his ears, wavy and uneven.

Weasley was the same as he always was; noisy, sloppy, and an utter prat.

Potter, on the other hand, was a ticking time bomb. Every other night Draco would wake to the sound of Potter calling out, a nightmare occurring in his head. It had to be the same nightmare each night, since the same words were repeated each time.

'No! Don't kill Sirius! Take me!'

It had to be Sirius Black to whom Harry was referring to. Draco already knew what happened to the shaggy man. Auntie Bella had killed him, right in front of Potter, as the story goes. Draco had made sure not to ask questions close to war, and he wasn't yet welcomed into Potter's little Horcrux study group even though he had dropped hints on how to destroy them. Potter was seeming to always be annoyed or angry, shoulders always risen and eyebrows down. He was biting his lip constantly, peeling the skin away and making them bleed. Earlier that very afternoon, Draco had yelled at him to stop fidgeting in his squeaking chair, only for Potter to storm out of the tent and disappear for an hour or so. Hermione had tried to stop him, but Potter was gone by the time she had exited the tent. Granger and Blaise went after him, the girls sleeping and Granger saying Ron and Draco were, "To injured to leave the wards".

"Draco, are you awake?" a voice said below. Draco looked over the edge of the bed, Pansy down below, twiddling her thumbs.

"Hey."

"Mind if I come up?" she asked.

"I don't know. Will Weasley remove his feet from the third rung so you can climb up?" Draco teased, leaning further over the edge. Weasley snorted.

"Whatever. Just be quiet, I'm listening to the radio." the ginger snorted, his feet moving to his bed. Pansy beamed at him, climbing swiftly up and plopping down next to Draco.

"What is it you want to talk about?" Draco asked, giving room for Pansy to lay down. She took the space, looking through Draco's makeshift skylight.

"Millie, Blaise and I...Well, since you're, you know, a Blood Traitor now, and no longer a Malfoy, which is completely fine! It's wonderful you are thinking for yourself and carving your own path. I'm happy for you, and how passionate you are about Theo is just heartbreaking-"

"Beating around the bush," Draco said with a smile. Pansy shut her mouth a moment, biting her lip.

"I'm just curious what you plan to do. What are we going to do after we leave? We have no home, no money, no allies, and only one wand. We'd never survive out there," she exclaimed, rolling onto her stomach. Draco sat up.

"Kill my father and my aunt. Then You-Know-Who."

"How?" Pansy asked, her eyes clear with worry. "Draco, they are dark wizards. They know more about magic then we do, not to mention You-Know-Who is the most dangerous wizard in all history." Draco's face fell, his chest tightening.

"I know that. But I'm going to do it. I'm going to kill them. No questions asked." he stated. Pansy sat up then, placing a hand on Draco's knee.

"Can you?" she asked. "Can you really kill your own father? Your aunt?" Her voice was in a whisper, and Draco could hear the radio down below. It was quieter than normal. Weasley was listening.

"I've thought of killing my father for years. He treated me less like a son and more like an heir. Like I was only there to be his poster child. And I'm sure the Dark Lord will be weak enough to defeat when all the Horcruxes are destroyed." Draco said angrily, his body filling with a heavy emotion. "But..."

Pansy sat still, a distant chirping of a bird and the sound voices echoing. The radio had been turned off. Either Weasley left, or he was more concerned on Draco's words than the broadcasts.

"...I don't know if I can kill Auntie." he said.

"Draco, she tortured you!" Pansy said loudly, motioning to his scarred face. Draco turned toward her angrily.

"She wasn't always like that!" he spat. "She was one of the greatest family members I ever could wish for. Not many remember her this way, but she used to be caring, loving, a soft soul. She was just so absorbed in her pureblood fascination around others it was hard to see. But I remember." Draco paused, bringing his knees to his chest. "She bought me presents and let me ride her broomstick with her and read me bedtime stories with the dolls. She was in hiding, I knew, but she always made time for me. When she was caught, I cried. I don't know how long. Long enough for my father to say something."

"I find that hard to believe," Weasley snorted from down below. Draco looked over the edge, his stormy eyes making contact with the gingers.

"It's the truth!" Draco yelled. "Azkaban changed her!"

"Azkaban changes everyone," Weasley said, sitting up on his bed. "Dementors are right demons."

"For once, we agree on something." Draco mumbled. He turned around Pansy looking as him with a caring countenance. The radio clicked back to life, names of missing wizards being call off. Draco sighed.

"Is that everything?" he said to the girl. She nodded, making her way to the ladder. She placed a quick kiss to Draco's lips, climbing down with a smile. Draco reached for a towel next to his pillow, climbing down.

"Where are you going?" Weasley demanded.

"If you must know, I am going to the river to bathe. Don't wait up," he said, unzipping the tent flap. Weasley rolled his eyes.

"Prat."

"Arse."

"Pouf."

"Dick."

"Bastard."

"Imbecile."

Draco stepped out of the tent, already tired of 'fighting' the ginger. He swung the pink towel over his shoulder, a small shampoo bottle and a sponge falling from the lump. Draco smiled. Pansy must have sneaked hers and Millie'e into his towel.

He continued his way out of the wards, following the sound of the river till he saw the bank, quickening his pace. He stopped at the edge, placing his towel on a large rock. He started disrobing himself, starting with his shirt, then his jeans. Draco had come to find out it was Potter's shirt, which scared him.

Potter was pencil thin, had knobby knees, and looked as if he had anorexia for years. Draco often noticed when the new school year would start, Potter looked as if he would die on the spot. Draco had often ignored it, but through these three days, seeing him undress and redress proved it to be true. His ribs popped from his skin, his hipbones poking outward. Hermione always looked sorrowful when he would change his clothes.

Draco stepped into the slow-flowing water, letting his manhood hang loose. The water felt nice on his skin, although the sediment in the liquid seeped into some of his fresher wounds, making them sting.

Draco dunked his head under the water, holding his breath a moment before coming back up again, a trail of water flying back. He smiled, running his fingers through his hair, breathing in through his nose.

Draco walked back to the shore, picking up the bottle of soap and sponge, returning to his previous spot to clean himself. The soap stung more than the dirt water, making Malfoy bite his lip. It was nothing like previous pain he had felt, but it still hurt, none the less.

Hurt. What was he to complain about? He had a roof over his head that didn't leak, a bed to sleep in, food to eat, and fresh clothes every day. Who was he to know about pain? Yes, he had experienced his fair share of physical pain, but true pain, emotional pain? Seeing his mother die, was that really pain, or just anger festering in his stomach that he was pushing away? These feelings would only take over his emotions. He had people he needed to take care of, breaking down into an emotional wreck would only but his friends in danger.

Their happiness was his top priority.


	4. When We Awake, Everything's Alright

September 3th, 1997

Draco carried an arm full of wood closer to the flickering flame, setting it down near the fire with a plop. Blaise grabbed a log, tossing it into the fire. Crickets could be heard, the occasional frog releasing a ribbit. Draco sat down next to his friend, looking intently into the fire.

"What do you think is going to happen to us?" Blaise mused. "It's not like we have a place in this war."

"Stop being so depressed," Draco said, bumping his friends shoulder. "Seriously, if we could harvest your depression, along with Pansy and Potter's, we could keep London's lights on for centuries." Blaise rolled his eyes, looking to his right. Pansy was sleeping against his thigh, curled up into a small ball. Millicent was in the tent, sleeping as well.

Millicent hadn't talked much to Draco after his explosion at her when they first arrived. She seemed distant, and with Draco staying in a separate tent, it's not like they could talk it over. The entire group seemed scared of him, like he was some odd force they'd rather not deal with. Weasley was the only one treating him the same. Well, he was trying to, but with Granger constantly on his back, he did hold back a majority of the time.

"I'm not trying to be depressed. None of us are," Blaise said, keeping his head down. "The only one here that has any true reason to be with Potter is you. Millicent and Pansy are too scared to fight, and I don't have a wand to fight with to help them."

"You aren't going to need to fight. I'm here for that. I'm going to keep you safe."

"But is it worth it?" Draco sat up straight, taken back.

"Of course you're worth it! How could you think otherwise?" Draco demanded, eyebrows pointing downward. Blaise picked at his fingernails, refusing to make eye contact. Draco snorted at the man's silence, crossing his arms. "Just be happy you're still alive."

"Are you?" Blaise asked, looking up. Draco breathed in deeply. "Are you happy do be alive?" Draco released his breath through his mouth, a tight feeling developing in his stomach.

"No," Draco replied, returning his gaze to the fire. "I'd rather be dead right now. At least I'd be with my mother." Blaise nodded in agreement, pulling back some of Pansy's hair from her face. Blaise had a hint of a smile on his face, Draco rolling his eyes.

"So, when's the wedding?" Draco said, motioning to Pansy's sleeping form. Blaise choked.

"What?"

"You and Pansy? You can't tell me nothing is going on," Draco stated, smiling with a clever aura around him. Blaise had a small blush, still looking at Pansy. Her thumb was pressed slightly against her mouth, almost like a child deep enough in sleep to release their thumb. Her knees were pressed in her stomach, toes pointed outward.

"We've talked about it. The chances of us actually surviving this war are slim. Why die alone, knowing there was someone you could have married?" Blaise leaned down, kissing the girl's cheek. A small smile appeared on her face, Blaise chuckling. "We got together right before you left for the Cabinet that night. She wanted to keep it a secret since she had just broken up with Theodore. I understood, but having to be trapped in a dungeon with her and Theo at the same time was horrifying. I could tell he still wanted her, and she was trying to ignore him, and Millicent told me she wanted Theo. It was just this giant love square thing, and you being the only one not involved for once. And then..." Blaise trailed off. Draco pulled at the grass beside him, tossing clumps into the flame, watching it shrivel and burn.

"Then he died saving me," Draco finished in a whisper. Blaise nodded, picking up a leaf and tearing it into small pieces. He sighed deeply.

"I love her, you know." the man said, staring at the girl's face. Draco adjusted him place on the ground, smirking a little.

"You know, being a pureblood, I was trained to conduct wedding ceremonies." Draco said, puffing his chest out. Blaise blinked at him, brown eyes a mirror to the fire.

"You mean it? You'll marry us?" Blaise asked, voice airy in disbelief. Draco nodded, pulling his wand from his pocket,

"I have my wand, the chants memorized, and the documents, if the Trio inside is willing to let me use their parchment." Draco said, rolling the wand between his fingers. "And if the parental figure is needed to be present, I can send a letter to Severus." Blaise stiffened.

"Severus can't help us. One more slip up, and the Dark Lord will know he's a traitor." Draco groaned.

"Damn it, you're right." Draco placed his wand in his pocket. "You are both of age, so it's not like we need a parental figure."

"Then why did you suggest him?"

Draco shrugged, moving to lay on his back

"He was like a father to us when our own were busy at the Ministry day in and day out. He never had kids of his own, which surprises me because of the stories he told of that Evans girl. Yes, he was cruel and strict, but he was more attentive to us then our own fathers." Draco looked into the fire, refusing to let his eyes blink. He pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. "Even mine."

Draco continued to stare into the dancing flame, face heating up quickly. His toes in his shoes were already hot, and the heat continued up his foot. His arms wrapped around his folded legs, turning onto his side, curling into a ball.

"You miss them, don't you? Your aunt, father, Severus?" Blaise asked, a sympathetic tone passing his lips. Draco sighed, using his thumb to wipe away the tears collecting in his eyes.

"Of course I do. I love them," Draco said quietly. Blaise chuckled.

"Even after what they did to you, you can still say that." The dark skinned man grabbed another log, tossing it into the fire. Sparks flew into the air, an abundance of crackling sounds emerging from the pit.

"I really wish you showed this side of yourself to more than just us." Draco turned to face Blaise, eyebrows raised.

"What side?" he asked. Blaise smiled at his friend.

"The compassionate, soft, true you. Not the hard, emotionless, pureblood exterior you put up around everyone else." Blaise said, leaning back slightly. "Maybe then the world won't see you as a Death Eater and more like a human being."

Draco nodded in agreement. "True. But if I don't act that way, it's easier to get hurt." He fiddled with his pants, watching a beetle crawl toward the fire. The bug touched a piece of heated wood, falling onto it's back. Draco reached forward, placing the beetle onto his index finger. "If I get hurt, then I can't protect the ones I need to protect."

"If you are so worried about everyone else, then who will protect you?" Blaise asked, eyes on the bug as the shell around it's wings opened. The beetle flew into the air, flying away into the trees of the forest. Draco looked back at the fire.

"No one, I guess."

Draco stood to his feet, walking toward his tent, saying his goodnights to his friend. He tossed open the flap, unsurprised to find the Gryffindors sitting around a table full of open books.

"It feels so odd," Potter said, his face showing a sober sadness. Draco stopped by his bed, turning to face them.

"Is the Horcrux acting up?" the blonde asked, taking the few steps toward the table. Hermione shook her fuzzy head, her expression the same as Potter.

"It's nothing," she said, breathing heavily. "Harry is just feeling a bit homesick."

Draco snorted loudly, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "I would hope not. From Potter's stories, his home is more like hell."

"I would never call the Dursley's home," Potter said quietly, drawing circles on a piece of parchment. Draco thought a moment, his eyebrows pointing downward.

"Today is the first Monday of September." Draco said slowly, Weasley nodding.

"Ginny's on that train," the ginger murmured. Draco could see Potter physically tense, worry for the girl overtaking him.

"Neville and Luna, too." Hermione added, a small smile on her face. "Knowing them, they already started up the DA." Draco rolled his eyes at the mention of their dueling club from two years ago. Draco tried so desperately to catch them in the act of breaking the rules, and had succeeded in the end. But now, he regretted ever doing it. He may have disagreed with the club, but what harm was it doing?

"Astoria as well," Draco said, trying to add more to the conversation.

"Who is Astoria?" Potter asked, looking up from his circle-drawing.

"She's a pureblood Ravenclaw. My fiancee," Draco said calmly, inspecting his fingernails. "She's a real bitch, but I still care about her." Hermione gasped, looking as if she was insulted.

"How could you treat your fiancee so poorly?" the girl demanded, Weasley laughing into his hand as the blonde was scolded.

"We aren't getting married! We both already agreed on it," Draco said back. "It's an arranged marriage. The Malfoy and Greengrass families are closely related. Astoria is basically my cousin. They are also one of the last pureblood families. There are only six that I have interacted with: Malfoy, Greengrass, Black, LeStrange, Longbottom, and Potter."

"Harry isn't a pureblood. His mother was a Muggle-born," Weasley said, his laugh fading away. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Don't you think I know that, Weasley? I'm talking about his grandparents on father's side." Harry jumped up in his seat, suddenly interested in conversation.

"I have grandparents?" Draco snorted at the brunette's reaction.

"I wouldn't bother. They were worse than my parents about the whole 'Purebloods are superior' thing. They don't work for the Dark Lord, though. They are a mutual party." Draco explained. "Rumor has it James Potter, their first born, was disowned when he married a Muggle girl, but he had no choice but to inherit their fortune when they died. Their other three son's died in the first war before him. As for the Muggle girl, I have no idea who she was or where she came from. Not that I care." Draco stood from the chair, crossing the tent to his bunk. He sat on the third rung, bending down to remove his shoes.

"Lily."

Draco looked up, rage developing in Potter's emerald eyes.

"What?"

"Her name was Lily." Potter snapped, rising from his seat and storming from the tent, Weasley trailing after him. Hermione stood as well, leaning down to Draco's ear.

"You shouldn't have said that."

-:-

September 6th, 1997

"...oy. Malfoy. Malfoy!"

"What?" Draco replied angrily, pulling the blanket up over his head. Hands were on his side, shaking him occasionally in attempt to get him to wake.

"Get up. We're packing and you're the only one still sleeping," the person said, Draco mentally cursing who the voice belonged to.

"Potter, you are horrid at waking people up. You need to coax them gently, bribe them with tea and scones, and whisper sweetly in their ear." Draco teased, curling up into a ball.

"Well, we don't have that, so tough." Potter stated, pulling the blanket off Draco's body. "Up."

"May you burn in hell, Potter." Draco snapped, sitting up slowly. Potter snorted, climbing off the top bunk and handing the blanket to Hermione.

"You know, we could have just let him sleep. He did do watch all night yesterday till early this morning," Hermione mused out loud, taking the blanket and folding it over her knee.

"I want to check as soon as I can. The faster we get this done, the better."

"Where are we going?" Draco asked, prepping himself to climb down the ladder. Potter gave him a stern look, obviously sleep deprived.

"An orphanage. We think a Horcrux is hidden there," Hermione informed. Draco nodded, jumping down from the bunk.

"You're lively," Hermione noted, pulling her bag open and stuffing the blanket inside.

"I'm deciding to take some advice and lighten up a bit." Draco said, tugging his grey shirt from over his head. "Besides, being hung in some depression will only hinder the group."

"Just don't smile all the time," Weasley said from the table, a plate of toast in front of him. "It's creeping everyone out."

"I don't find it creepy," Hermione said, shooting a glare at the ginger.

"Neither do I," Potter added, casting a spell to shrink the bunk bed. Draco's eyebrows shot into his forehead, placing his hands on his hips. He gazed at the man, scanning him over, placing an index finger on his lip.

"Curious, the Chosen One defending the Death Eater poster child." Draco teased, Weasley choking on his toast. Potter shot a tough snarl at Draco, the blonde continuing to smirk. Draco turned back to his dressing, pulling the fresh jeans over his legs and fastening the zipper.

"Why do you try to be such a prat all the time?" Weasley spat, moving so he faced Draco directly. Draco kept his back to the ginger, his smile fading. He tossed his hair, grabbing the tube of cream and placing a generous amount on his finger.

"I don't try to be a prat," Draco said calmly, rubbing the creme over his blind eye. "You take everything so seriously, any joke I tell falls on deaf ears." Weasley snorted, Draco grabbing a comb and running it through his hair. He pulled his bangs forward, covering his eye in attempt to hide the scar. He placed the items in a pile, folding the clothing and handing them to Hermione. She placed them in the bag, Draco turning to leave.

"I'm going to check Millie and the others."

"We're leaving in ten minutes," Potter said sternly, his wand busy on the table and chairs. Draco gave him a nod, exiting.

-:-

"I can't believe it's gone," Potter moaned, his head against the table. Hermione was busy at the fire, the sizzling of bacon making Draco's stomach growl. Pansy and Millicent were in his bed, Blaise sitting on a rung of the ladder while the blonde took a chair at the table.

"It's been over sixty years since the Dark Lord would have been there. Stop blaming yourself," Weasley said, rubbing his friend's back as he moaned.

"We could have checked. We traveled all the way to London, put everyone in danger, only to find out it's replaced with an office tower. We were so close to finding another Horcrux," Potter said, running his fingers through his tasseled hair.

"Even if you did find one, how to you expect to destroy it? You can't even destroy the one we currently have," Draco said, motioning to Weasley's chest where the Horcrux laid. Potter looked up, anger covering his features.

"Why don't you contribute, Malfoy? Why the hell are you here anyway?" Potter demanded, jaw set. Draco scowled.

"I've already told you, Potter, I'm in as much danger as you are. You were so generous to give me a place to stay, for some unknown reason you refuse to tell me." Draco replied, crossing his arms. He looked Potter in the eyes, intent to not break the gaze. "As for my lack of contribution, every time I try, you and Weasley shoot me down like a wild goose."

"If you weren't such a prat, we'd let you contribute." Weasley murmured, smirking slightly. Draco turned toward him, anger starting to pulse in his veins.

"Do you have something to say, Weasley? How about saying it to my face?" Draco said, voice dripping with poison. The blonde stood, stomping toward the tent exit. "I'm going for a walk."

Pansy shuffled off the punk bed, a cloak and sweater in hand. "Here."

"Thank you." Draco leaned down, kissing the girl lightly on the forehead before exiting. He wrapped the cloak around his body, pulling the hood over his head. He pulled his wand from his pocket, thinking of Diagon Alley. He needed to find a way to relax, and there was only one way he could think of. He flicked his wand, a familiar tugging feeling staring in his navel.


	5. Sing To Me, About The End Of The World

Draco landed on his bum, instantly doused in think September rain of London. He shook his head, scanning the scene before him. He was between Olivander's and some spice shop Severus would scoff at, in an alleyway filled with stray wrappers and scurrying rats. Draco reached in his pocket, feeling the Galleon he had stolen from Hermione. He pulled the hood farther over his head, walking out into the open street, wizards and witches with umbrellas racing about. He knew he looked sketchy, that all eyes were on him. He made his way to the Leaky Cauldron, swerving around children splashing in puddles and shop displays. The mood was not one a person would enjoy, a feeling of gloom and loss echoing off the storefronts.

Draco opened the door to the Leaky, unsurprised to find it deserted. He walked toward the bar, repositioning the hood around his head. He took a seat at the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish with another costumer. He pulled the Galleon from his pocket, scanning it over. It looked like every other Galleon, why was this one feeling like his last? Was it his lack of a name that removed all resources from him? Or the emotion of knowing he was relying on others to cater to his basic needs?

Potter was protecting him and his friends. The reasons why still baffled him. It's not like Potter knew what was going on while he was in captivity. He had no idea what went on in that cell. If Draco were to guess, he never heard what had occurred in the playroom. Only Weasley and Granger had listened. It left so many questions in his mind.

Was Potter just fooling with him? What were his intentions with protecting him? Did all of this have some deeper meaning Draco had not yet seen? Were they even rivals? Could he even call Potter by his last name anymore? Draco sat up slightly.

Harry.

Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry.

It was a peasant's name, and far less superior to a name like Draco. A name like Harry reminds you of paperboys, Muggle milkmen, professors. Meanwhile, Draco makes you think of high kings, kaisers, overlords. Hell, even Cedric lived up to his name in the short span of time he had.

Harry; five letters, like Draco. What if it was short for something, like Harold? In no way could Potter live up to a name like Harold. He was too skinny for a bulky name like Harold.

Harry Potter. His name fit him like a glove.

"You lookin' cheerful." the bartender stated, smiling from the other side of the bar. Draco jumped at the voice, placing the Galleon in the countertop.

"How many packs of cigarettes can this get me?" he asked, deepening his voice so he wasn't recognized. The bartender, obviously new, raised an eyebrow at him, picking up the Galleon and looking it over.

"Ain't from 'round here, are ya?" he said, Draco refraining a shiver from his horrid speech. The man placed the Galleon between his teeth, attempting to bend it.

"No, from Wales." Draco lied.

"Well now, fancy that. You're the first costumer I've had from 'round there."

"Just give me the packs and I'll be gone," Draco growled, looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being watched.

"This here can get ya five packs. Hell, I'll throw in a sixth and a bottle of whiskey for being my first Wales visitor." the bartender drawled, reaching under the counter and pulling out the items desired, reaching further inside for the bottle. It was one of the larger, expensive kind, one that the higher middle class would indulge in over Christmas dinner.

"You're to kind," Draco said, taking the cigarettes and stuffing them into his cloak pockets. He grabbed the bottle by the neck, hoisting himself from the stool. "Goodnight."

"Now, look here, sir." Draco turned. "You go around these areas lookin' like that, and you'll be arrested by the Ministry faster than you can say 'Shakespeare's Willy'. Times are tough now that the damn Death Eaters is back, and walkin' around like you have a boot up your ass isn't a good choice." Draco rolled his eyes, keeping the bottle by his side.

"I'll keep that in mind," he remarked, opening the door to the Leaky Cauldron. He shut it slowly behind him, running again for the alleyway. A child dashed in front of him, making him skid to a stop.

"Daddy, daddy, it's Draco!" the child yelped. Draco's eyes went wide, a sudden sense of fear washing over him. He looked over his shoulder, tensing instantly. Yaxley stalked behind him, wand sneaking out of his sleeve. The end glowed red, a fire starting in the blonde's stomach.

"Shit!" Draco dashed down the street, feet splashing in the puddles as he swerved around the shop displays. He looked over his shoulder, three men chasing him at top speed. The people in the streets fell to the ground and hid inside shops, screams echoing in the streets. A red streak shot over his head, Draco's hood flying off as he dodged. He pulled his own wand from his pocket, pointing it at one of the storefronts.

"Pertrificus Totalus!" he howled, the sound of breaking glass making his stomach jolt. The glass fell on top of him, a blue liquid following behind. He cursed, the wetness slowing him down.

He turned into the alley way, trying to remember something about their camping spot. The three men rounded the corner, his heart beating faster. He flicked his wand, the pull on his navel expelling all air from his lungs. He squeezed down to tube size, spinning as he was transported.

Draco fell, his stomach the first part of him to touch the ground. He coughed, looking around for a familiar landmark. Next to his hand, the bottle of Fire-whiskey laid, a chuckle leaving his mouth. He reached for the bottle, smiling at it like it was a dear friend.

"You were a lot of fucking trouble," he joked, leaning against the back of a nearby tree. He unscrewed the top, tossing his hair back and drinking a large amount. He breathed out, laughing again.

A pop sounded behind him, making him jump. Death Eaters Yaxley, Turner, and Dolohav stood, evil smirks on their faces. Draco jumped to his feet, pointing his wand at them.

"Get back!" he yelled, aiming at Yaxley's chest. The man snorted.

"Or what, Little Malfoy? I'm surprised you made it this far without collapsing. Alas, we are still here." he said, Dolohav rolling his eyes. Draco stepped backward, keeping his arm raised.

"Incarcerous!" Turner said, the spell hitting Draco in the chest. Ropes spun around him, trapping his arms to his sides. Draco shouted, instantly attempting to break the binds to no avail. Turner kicked his wand from his hand, Yaxley reaching to grip his hair and yank.

"Now, Little Malfoy, we have been looking for you. The Dark Lord wishes to have his plaything ba-"

"I'm no one's plaything!" Draco spat, spitting in Yaxley's face. Yaxley flicked away the wad of saliva, black eyes showing utter rage. Turner chuckled.

"Look at his eye. It would seem the toxin has worked," the man scoffed, his hand moving the blonde's hair so his right eye was in plain view. Yaxley smirked, yellow teeth making Draco gag.

"Now, Little Malfoy, who has been treating your burns?" Yaxley cooed, his voice raspy in the blonde's ear.

"Tough luck," Draco spat, moving his feet so he had better balance. "They aren't anywhere near here. I'm not telling you bastards anything!" Turner scowled, aiming his wand at Draco's head.

"We could kill you right here. Talk."

"We were ordered to do whatever we need to, but to keep him intact." Dolohav informed. "Just ask him if he knows where the brat is so we can go."

"If you think I'd rat Potter out, you are sadly mistaken. I'm not saying a bloody thing," Draco hissed, trying to fight the ropes, ignoring the burning itchiness starting on his arms. Yaxley let his hair go, Draco's lack of balance making him fall to his knees. Turner walked over, kicking his shoulder so he laid in the dirt. He placed his boot on the side of Draco's face, pressing down so his cheek was rubbing against the dirt. Draco bit his lip, not bothering to stop his attackers from their advance.

"All you have to say is where the Harry Potter is and we'll leave you unharmed," Turner cackled. Draco smiled at them, tensing his body tighter in preparation for what was to come.

"Eat shit," he gasped in his final attempt to hold onto his pride.

Yaxley's eyes turned to slits, jaw locking in place. He leaned down, grabbing Draco by the hair, placing his wand in his pocket.

"Yaxley, not too much." Dolohav warned. "We need him alive."

"Oh, I'll keep him alive," Yaxley chuckled, placing his fingers around Draco's eye. "I just don't think he'll need this anymore, being as it doesn't work."

"No! Don't!" Draco yelled, fear coating his features. He turned his head, attempting to kick his attacker. Dolohav rushed to his legs, sitting on them to cease movement. Turner grabbed the sides of Draco's head, securing it in front of Yaxley's hand.

"Please! Yaxley, don't do it! I'm begging you!"

The man kept silent, Turner hackling in his ear. The fingers lifted his eyelids, the grime and dirt making the eye sting. Draco's lungs ceased to work, the feel of the nails sliding behind the boarder of his skull lighting his nerves to lightning.

"Malfoy!"

Three red lights flew past him, simultaneous thumps hitting dirt. The fingers jerked from his socket, Draco letting out a scream. He fell to the ground, breathing through his teeth. He tasted blood, spitting to remove the liquid from his mouth. Confident hands pulled him up, sitting him upright to untie the ropes.

"Harry?" The brunette kneeled in front of him, fingers busy on the knot keeping the ropes together. Potter kept his head down, wand still in his palm. "How did you find me?"

"The others went on to set up a new camp. I stayed behind in case you came back. You screamed rather loudly." he responded, the bonds falling to the ground. He reached out, helping Draco to his feet. "Can you walk?"

"I'm fine." Draco took a few teetering steps, standing up straight. "Where's my wand?" Potter nodded, holding his own out.

"Accio wands!" he exclaimed, four items flying to his hands. Draco grabbed his from the bunch, Potter pocketing the others. He turned to the three unconscious men, anger pulsing in his veins.

"Don't," Potter say, grabbing the blonde's wrist. "We need to move. My guess, more are on the way. What ever you are planning to do will only waste time." Draco bit down on his lip, returning his wand to his pocket.

"Fine. Let's get moving before..." The world around him started to spin, colors blending into one, shapes losing structure. He felt his balance kilter, leaning ever so slightly forward. He looked at the ground, trying to regain his posture. The blonde's body slammed against Potter's, Draco reaching to hold on. His hands gripped the brunette's forearms, head rest against his chest.

"Damn it, Malfoy, you aren't fine. We need to get you to Hermione," Potter rushed, holding Draco's sides tightly. The blonde's eyes refocused, breathing in suddenly. The familiar tugging at his navel started, the spinning making him dizzy. They landed shortly, Potter holding onto his body tightly.

"We're about half a mile from our new camp site. You can lean on me," Potter commented, Draco attempting to stabilize his stance.

"Thank you," Draco moaned. "While being attacked, I shattered a storefront to slow them down. It must have been a potion shop since I was covered in blue liquid straight away."

"Do you know what kind of potion it was?" Potter asked, bringing Draco's arm around his shoulders.

"Not a clue. A variation of a sleeping potion, since they most likely haven't changed out the display since June." Draco drawled as the walked forward, keeping his head down to stop the headache slowly creeping up on him. His closed his eyes, letting Potter lead him like a seeing-eye dog.

"Draco? Are you out here?" a voice in the distance yelled, Potter yelping at the voice. Draco gasped, his wits returning to him. He looked at the brunette, who was breathing deeply.

"Thank Merlin," he whispered, leaning on a trunk so he wouldn't have to rely on Potter for balance.

"Millicent! Over here!" he called back, his voice higher than intended. Snapping twigs and ruffling leaves came from the right, the girl emerging from the shrubs. He reached out to her, Millicent instantly wrapping her arm around his waist. She turned to Potter, giving a scowl.

"Some hero you are, Potter! Can't you see he's hurt? His eye is bleeding!" she scolded, eyes blazing. Draco reached to

"Millie, he was helping. I just need Hermione," he pushed, the girl nodding.

"Of course, of course." she replied, walking him toward the way she came. She speed walked through a dirt covered pathway, the edges of Draco's vision starting to fade. He gripped Millicent tighter as his legs locked, the two of them stopping.

"Damn it, he's losing consciousness. Potter! Carry him!" Draco heard Millie yell as his body was lifted of the ground. He could only see colors as the world spun around him, his sense of direction gone. The warmth of the body he laid against was soothing, letting his mind shut down for a moment.

-:-

September 10th, 1997

"...am part of this war, too!" Draco heard, the raging sound calling him from his dreamless sleep. He moaned, trying to move his stiff limbs. A hand was immediately in his forehead, checking his temperature.

"Please be quiet, Ron! He is still recovering," Hermione said with a choked voice, near to where Draco laid.

"What is happening? How long was I asleep?" Draco murmured, the girl removing a wet cloth from his forehead.

"You were covered in an over simmered sleeping draught. You've been sleeping for four days. I'm surprised Harry found you so quickly. You sure are a lucky one, Draco!" Hermione said happily. The ginger snorted.

"So it's Draco now?"

"Yes!" she snapped. "That is his name!"

"Granger, you don't need to defend me." Draco croaked, the girl helping him sit up. She reached toward a nearby chair, a glass of water coming to his lips. Draco drank it like it was his first time, gasping afterword.

"Sod off, Malfoy, this isn't about you!" Weasley snarled at the blonde, hands in tight fists. Draco rolled his eyes, Hermione reaching behind his head to untie the bandage around his eye. "You're a bloody Death Eater, you have no say in anything going on here!"

"Ron, that's enough." Potter spoke with strong irritation. "He isn't a Death Eater. The ones killing on that blasted radio are the Death Eaters." Weasley turned to face him, face red to his ears in anger. Hermione looked physically pained as she placed new gauze around the bruised eye, Draco noticing the tears collecting on her bottom eyelid.

"That blasted radio? Do you even know why I have that?" he spit, motioning to the grey box currently turned off. "So I don't hear Ginny name! Or Fred, or George, or mum and dad's names! You have no idea how that feels!" Draco watched in worry and Potter's face morphed to an uncapped anger.

"How think I don't know how this feels?" he screamed, picking up the radio and slamming it back down onto the mattress.

"No! You don't know how it feels!" Weasley's eyes turned evil, Draco swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "YOUR PARENTS ARE DEAD!"

A snap echoed in the tent.

Harry pounced, Weasley ready for his attack. Fists flew at each other's faces, Draco jumping to pull Harry off the seething ginger. Potter shoved him away like a feather in the wind, Hermione catching him before he fell to the floor. Weasley was able to remove Harry from his person, the brunette's eyes showing a strong amount of anger Draco had never seen in him before.

It almost scared him.

"Go!" he howled, teeth barred. "If you're so worried, then leave!" Weasley's jaw set as he walked to the bed, picking up his bag from the floor and radio from the bed, removing the Horcrux around his neck and throwing it at Potter. He wrapped his scarf around his neck, opening the tent flap.

"Are you coming, Hermione?" he asked sternly, the chestnut haired girl tensing. She shook where she stood, reaching out to the man. The hand retracted, head shaking. Draco watched, dumbfounded, as the ginger exited the tent.

"Ron! Wait, please! Be reasonable!" Hermione followed him outside, the two arguing the instant she stepped outside. Potter kicked the chair, sending bandages and water flying. Draco sat down on the bed as the man fumed, slamming his fist against the table, open ink wells spilling over. He looked at Draco, teeth bared.

"What are you staring at?" he demanded. The blonde flinched, his green eyes fiery and dangerous. Draco had to fight to not look away.

"You," he answered simply, a gasped laugh passing his lips. Harry's face softened, turning to the table. Anger turned to shame in seconds.

"Was I... wrong?" he asked. "Do I really not know what he feels?" Harry's head sank lower against his chest, hair blocking his face from Draco's view. "He's like family to me. Yet, I don't..." Draco sighed, rising to his feel. He slowly walked to where Harry stood. He looked up, green eyes meeting silver. The blonde reached for his hand, curling his fingers to they were intwined.

"It's going be okay," he said, attempting to sound caring, his smile hurting. Harry tried to move his hand away, Draco gripping tighter. "I don't know how, but I know when it's you, everything will work out." Harry laughed, returning his eyes to the table.

"Are you kidding? My best friend just walked out, I'm the center of a war I have no idea how to win, and here you are, trying to comfort me when you should be hexing me." he replied, letting their fingers wrap together.

"If it wasn't you, I probably would have hexed you." Draco added, quirking an eyebrow.

"You have an odd way of cheering someone up."

"My mum would do this. During first year, she took my hand and said 'When it's you, you'll know how to make it work'." Draco replied with a fond smile. "You know, even after she saw my face when we escaped, she still treated me like I was her little angel."

"She sounds wonderful," Harry commented.

"I'm sure Weasley's mum is the same with you." Harry chucked, turning to face Draco again. This time, when their eyes connected, butterflies danced in Draco's stomach. He could suddenly feel everything; the hand on his, the breath bare gracing his cheek, their thighs only inches apart, the deep, green orbs piercing into his soul. All of it at once was almost nerve destroying.

"That means a lot, but I never thought you would be the one to say it." Harry said quietly. "Why are you being nice to me?" Draco snorted.

"It's just you rubbing off on me, prat." Draco defended, letting go of Harry's hand to shove him slightly. Harry shoved back, a still silence starting to fall. Draco felt his stomach tighten as the air became less electric, calming to a smooth stop. He cleared his throat. "You should go out there, help Granger out." Harry nodded, walking toward the exit. Draco make his way to the bed, sitting down to pick up the bandages on the floor.

"Hey, Malf-... Draco." The blonde looked up, half of Potter's body outside, the rest looking in.

"Thank you."


End file.
